


psittacine

by Eloarei



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, M/M, post-MGS2, pre-MGS4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eloarei/pseuds/Eloarei
Summary: Snake and Otacon casually browse local shops as they wait on an informant. The pet store piques their interests and nostalgia.
Relationships: Otacon & Solid Snake, Otacon/Solid Snake
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	psittacine

**Author's Note:**

> A little ficlet I did between other projects during NaNoWriMo.

Being fugitive war criminals didn’t leave them a lot of opportunity for acting like normal people, but every so often a mission would take them somewhere mundane, and they’d have to blend into the crowd for a while. Today was one of those days, where they had to spend quite a long while waiting around in a shopping district of a mid-large city. They weren’t recognizable to the average person; in fact, probably only the Patriots system could actually identify them at a glance, and (as far as they knew) it hadn’t expanded to this particular country. So they put on their civilian disguises and went for a stroll around the town, looking for all intents and purposes like tourists, and enjoying themselves at least as much as they could when they had to keep an eagle-eye out for enemy operatives. (That was normal though; the only place they could ever really let their guard down was back in the hangar, and only because they had such good monitoring systems.)   
  
Aside from sampling the local food, they browsed whatever shops caught their attention. Dave had gotten pulled in by an antiques store, admiring their collection of rusted old weapons and mementos from the world wars. Hal had dragged him into a tech store, which couldn’t possibly have had anything even approaching the power of the computers he used daily, but which still excited him. They both spent a good long time in a bookshop, perusing their preferred genres.   
  
And they both couldn’t help but check out the pet store. Dave was a big dog person, for all that he hadn’t had one for years now. It just wasn’t plausible to keep a dog on an airplane, especially not a big one like the kind he’d kept in Alaska. But he liked playing with the puppies at the store. They were so joyful and completely oblivious to all the strife in the world.   
  
When he was done cooing at the pups, Dave looked around for Hal, and found him with the birds toward the back of the shop. He was gazing wistfully at a parrot-- a white-eyed conure, according to the sign.   
  
“Oh,” he said when he noticed Dave come up behind him. He shuffled guiltily, casting his eyes down before looking back at the bird. “I was just… thinking about EE.”   
  
“Sure,” Dave said, feeling bad about having startled him. He understood what it was like to grieve lost loved ones, and how those memories could come back in the most unexpected of places.   
  
“I felt kind of bad for just letting her bird go, out where it might not be able to take care of itself,” he continued. “But even if we could have kept it, I just don’t know if I could have standed to see it every day and have to think of her. I don’t think it would bother me so much now, but, well, I know we can’t really keep pets with the sort of lifestyle we have.”   
  
Dave regarded the bird, which was turning its head side to side to stare at Hal out of alternating eyes. He was definitely right; they couldn’t just keep animals around for fun, especially when there was every possibility that they wouldn’t come home on any given day. Now, if the bird could be trained for some kind of intel…   
  
But Hal came to a conclusion before Dave could voice his. “Chickens could be useful though, if they lay eggs. I mean, everyone’s got to eat.”   
  
Laughing, Dave imagined them having a chicken as a pet. The fresh eggs would be nicer than the MREs they often subsisted off of. “So does that mean you’re going to learn to cook?” he asked, doubtful.   
  
“It can’t be _that_ hard,” Hal replied, looking entirely serious. “If I can hack into the Pentagon, I’m sure I can cook an egg.”   
  
Dave shook his head, chuckling. “Yeah. We’ll see.” 

**Author's Note:**

> "Psittacine" is the scientific name for parrots... according to Wiki, anyway. I'm not a parrot scientist. I just play video games and wish I understood them well enough to write more than drabbles.


End file.
